H E Double Hockey Sticks
by vennat
Summary: There's a reason Casey "plays" hockey. And there's also a reason for why Mikey is so pissed.


When he was young people would snatch at his arms, demand where bruises like _that_ had come from. How do you answer that? _Ah yes, sorry, my dad was just beating me again! Haha, no biggie._

Even from a young age, Casey knew that wasn't an option. If he told an adult, and adult would bring the matter to his dad. His dad would sweet talk, and when they left, the beating would get ten times worse. So he looked for an out. He became known for fights that he never instigated or participated in.

And then his dad knocked his two front teeth out.

"What's up with your teeth? You a hockey player or somethin'?"

And now he had an out.

He already worked a job to give his dad the booze he demanded. It was simple to save just a little from each check and purchase the equipment necessary to look as if he was a hockey player.

The hardest part was learning how to skate. It made for extra bruises, but it wasn't anything he wasn't used to. It was also an excuse to get out of the house. Head to the skate rink, hang out in the silence and peace for a while, and by the time he returned home his dad was passed out on the couch. Any bruises he had were immediately chalked up to his "hockey playing" or his "fighting issue." It was almost too easy to cover it up.

And then he found out there were 4 mutant turtles living in the sewers of New York City. There was always _something_.

"Casey, why is there a bruise on your _neck?!"_ Mikey's voice was incredulous, rising an octave in his surprise. "You didn't even get hit during the fight!" Casey felt a flutter of panic in his throat.

"It's… it's from hockey. Some kid went wild with his stick during practice. It's fine." He smiled at them pleasantly, lounging back on the concrete seats as if he wasn't filled to the brim with panic.

Mikey eyes him suspiciously, but the others go back to their normal activities. Leo closes his eyes again, meditating. Raph playing the pinball machine. Donny tapping away quickly into his T-Phone, likely solving world hunger or something similarly complicated.

"I've never actually seen you go to hockey practice. Or attend a game." There was a hard note in Mikey's voice, one that Casey was unaccustomed to. The others seemed to notice too, turning their attention to the conversation and sitting up a little straighter. Casey felt his posture go stiff. He barked out a sharp laugh.

"Mikey, you don't notice anything. Your nose is always stuck in a comic book, you wouldn't notice if I dyed my hair purple and grew a beard." Donny, off to one side, snorted, but Mikey's expression didn't change. His face was as unanimated as Casey had ever seen it.

"Casey." There was a tone of finality to it that Casey didn't like. "Why don't you go home? You're always here. Not that I mind, but don't you want to see your family? Aren't your parents worried?" Casey scoffed before he could stop himself.

"Parent, concerned. Funny." He regretted the words as soon as they left his mouth. Now all the attention was fully on him, and he let out a tired breath. Mikey arched an eyebrow at him.

"I just don't wanna go home, ok?" He was mumbling, but they were mutants so if they couldn't hear him, _too damn bad_. Mikey walked over to him, slow and steady. He sat down next to Casey.

"You got that from your dad, didn't you." Mikey's voice was soft, but had a vein of steel in it. Casey didn't answer, but it seemed the hardening of his features was all that the four turtles needed in reply.

"That _bastard_." Casey looked up in surprise at Leo, having never heard him talk like that before. He had very little time to focus on that though, because Mikey was patting him on the back.

"Alright. Well, that's not gonna happen anymore." Casey looked at him, confused.

"What?"

"I said, that's not going to happen anymore." Mikey voice was cold, and Casey was a little terrified by what he heard there. "I'll be back in an hour. Don't wait up for me." The other three looked like they wanted to argue, but wisely kept their mouths shut. Mikey nodded once, swiped his nunchucks off the coffee table, and left the hideout. Casey was left in wide eyed astonishment.

"What just happened?" Donny, from the couch opposite him, shrugged.

"You're not worried he's gonna get hurt? What is he even doing?" Donny shrugged again, and at Casey's look of frustration, elaborated.

"I'm not worried about him. Honestly, I'd be worried about your dad. But from what I can see he doesn't deserve your pity." Casey smiled tightly in agreement, Leo and Raph nodding from their respective perches in the room.

"Mikey really is the strongest of us all," Raph added gruffly from where he was leaning against the machine. "Don't tell him I said that." Casey looked to Leo for confirmation, having previously assumed either him or Raph to be the best of the foursome. Leo nodded sagely. Casey gave them a questioning look.

"He's physically the strongest, most skilled with his weapon, most skilled in hand-to-hand, and most skilled at stealth. He's also proficient with every one of our weapons." Casey's mouth hung open in surprise, and Leo offered him a wry grin, despite the situation.

" _How?!"_ Raph was the one to give the humorlessly-humorous laugh this time.

"Mikey thinks that if he's the best we'll look to him. He downplays himself. Thinks that if he pretends not to be as good as he is, pretends to be silly and crazy, he won't ever have to be the one to make the tough decisions." Leo and Donny nodded in agreement this time. Casey took a deep breath, digesting this new information.

He knew Mikey was fiercely protective of his friends and family. He knew that Mikey was sufficiently good at fighting, stealth, and had an acceptable amount of strength. He almost didn't want to believe it, but the more he thought about it, the more he realized how likely it was. His brain seemed to be pulling a million minute little details he had noticed over time from the back recesses of his mind, backing up what Donny said with facts.

"Huh. Guess you're right," he agrees, and speak of the devil. Mikey walks in with two duffels backs, lumpy and overstuffed. He drops them heavily to the floor.

"You live here now. Your dad won't be bothering you anymore." The finality of his tone sends a chilling mix of relief and worry down his spine, but Casey has enough common sense that he doesn't want to question the specifics of that statement.

"Just like that?" He says instead.

"Just like that." Mikey agrees. And then the smile is back on his face. The one that Casey knows so well. But this time, he can see the twinge of something different in it.

"Hey, we can put you down on the chore roster now! One less week I have to clean the bathroom," Raph adds, pumping his fist to the sky in victory. Just like that, the tension in the room eases.

And it's just like that. Now he's safe. Now he's happy. And now, he has a real family to protect him.


End file.
